Out for the VisCount
by RevSue
Summary: Joseph & Clarisse romance: Beginning shortly after the first movie. A look at some of the intrigues in Genovia and a national disaster in the making ...
1. Chapter 1

Title: OUT FOR THE (VIS)COUNT

Authors: Sue and Susan

Rating: T

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters since Princess Diaries 1 & 2, and its characters are the property of Disney and Buena Vista and Meg Cabot, to a certain extent! I make no money from this work of fiction._

Clarisse tried to focus on her work, but she was finding it most difficult. Charlotte had informed her a few moments ago that Genovia One was halfway home from America, bringing the princess for her first visit to her father's homeland. Clarisse knew she was looking forward to seeing her grand-daughter again, but she was also very aware of the fact that, after six long weeks, Joseph would be back at her side. Ever since their time in America, Clarisse had realized that she was in the grip of feelings that were not sensible nor desirable when it came to Joseph. She was his employer, and that responsibility put her in a position of authority and trust. She wasn't supposed to be thinking about Joseph's eyes or lips or body or overall air of confidence and ... and sexiness! Inwardly groaning, Clarisse pushed that thought out of her mind. She must have been spending too much time with Mia to even be THINKING such a thing.

The fact that Clarisse was a queen heightened her sense of responsibility. She was watched by her family, her staff, the people of Genovia and indeed, the people of the world. Her behaviour had to be above reproach at all times. She had been schooled in this duty since her betrothal to Rupert all those years ago, and although in the beginning she had had occasional lapses, none had been severe enough to have even a touch of scandal attached to them. Now that she was Genovia's reigning queen until Mia came of age, Clarisse could not permit herself to relax, nor could she allow any slips. No matter how tired, pressured or irritated she was, her anger, frustration or impatience must never be revealed. She was very aware that she had a public image to uphold. After years of being tested, Clarisse was feeling that her immense capacity for discipline was near a breaking point.

In America, on more than one occasion, Joseph had acted in such a way that now Clarisse was battling with herself, feeling that her self-control was being threatened. No, she shouldn't just blame Joseph. That would not be fair. She had been the one to ask for his assistance with Mia, and although she had thought at one time that such duties would aid in curbing her growing attraction to the man who was the Head of Security for the Royal Family of Genovia, the result had been, in fact, that they had been thrown together in a more intimate setting, discussing more personal things. Even now, she could feel the warmth of his hands on her properly-clothed body as they danced; indeed, the heat of his body whenever it had pressed against hers on the dance floor.

For the last six weeks, she had missed the feel of his hand on the small of her back as he ushered her through crowds, up stairs or along hallways. She had seen a softness in Joseph's eyes when he had looked at her as they had danced, a softness that had made her feel a longing inside. She had quenched that longing immediately. For her entire marriage, she had longed for happiness despite the fact that the marriage had been arranged. She had known success in making measured decisions for the greater good by weighing and balancing all factors dispassionately. But now, all she seemed able to think about was what it would be like to kiss ... KISS! ... her Head of Security!

"Your Majesty?" Charlotte was suddenly in front of her again.

Clarisse ruthlessly pushed her thoughts into the background, having shocked herself by her inattentiveness. "Yes, Charlotte?"

"The Viscount Mabrey is here. He apologizes for not having made an appointment, but wonders if it would be possible to speak with you."

"Thank you, Charlotte. Yes, I'll see him." Clarisse smoothed a hand over her hair, whilst knowing already that not a hair was out of place. The Viscount had always had that effect on her. He had never said a word nor shown by any of his actions that he was not impressed with his queen, but somehow, Clarisse had always felt ... unfinished ... in his presence. Arthur Mabrey had been very close to King Rupert and Clarisse knew he had sincerely mourned his friend and sovereign's death last year. Since then, his wife had been ailing, and the Mabreys had not been as active around the court as they had been previously.

"Your Majesty ... thank you for seeing me!" the Viscount Mabrey strutted in, and bowed obsequiously before Clarisse, taking the hand she unwillingly held out and kissing it. "I won't take up much of your time, knowing that you are expecting your grand-daughter any moment."

"I expect it will be longer than a moment," Clarisse smiled at him, restraining her urge to tug her hand away from his and wipe the back of it on her jacket as she had when Paolo had kissed it two months ago.

O o O o O o

Arthur Mabrey, a Viscount in Genovia in his own right, and married to a woman directly descended from King Chevalier of Genovia, eyed Queen Clarisse surreptitiously, wondering a little at the rush of adrenaline that had caught him somewhat by surprise when his lips touched her hand. He had known the woman for years, of course, and remembered her well from the days before King Rupert's death. She had always appeared to be encased in ice, he had secretly thought, showing no emotion, no passion and no fire. A few times, Arthur had found himself wondering how the King had stood having the woman near him! Arthur firmly believed that it was the woman's duty to please her husband in every way, and such passivity and control would not have pleased HIM. It was no wonder the King and Queen had only had two children ... and such children! One had been basically disowned and sent away, Arthur believed, not trusting the veracity of the official statement from the throne that Prince Pierre had abdicated in order to pursue a career in the church. The CHURCH? If Arthur hadn't suspected that Queen Clarisse was frigid, he would have thought that perhaps the oldest prince was really someone else's child, otherwise, why would he have been allowed to abdicate for no good reason? Certainly religion was NOT a good reason in the Viscount's eyes!

The younger son, Prince Philippe, had been a weak fool to have been taken in by an American woman, saved by King Rupert when forced to give up that woman and returned to Genovia where he had played at being the crown prince. Obviously the prince had never quite lived up to his calling in his mother's eyes, since she had refused to allow him to be crowned King at his father's death. Arthur was disgusted that Parliament had agreed to wait for a year before crowning Prince Philippe king, and then the idiot had gone and gotten himself killed before the year was up! Of course, that HAD paved the way for the brilliant plan that had suddenly appeared on the horizon of his mind, and was even now being meticulously organized.

"Viscount Mabrey? You wished to say something?" Queen Clarisse's cool voice broke into his thoughts, and he realized he was still holding her hand.

Quickly disentangling his hand from hers, Arthur fought to keep his body from further reacting to the woman before him. One look into her deep blue eyes had had him rising to the occasion, so to speak! Even as he spoke quickly and passionately about a minute point in Parliament he believed should be overturned, he found himself pondering whether he was attracted to Queen Clarisse for her womanly body or for the power and prestige she wielded as the queen. He just KNEW it wasn't because he LOVED her, or any such nonsense as THAT! Why, he couldn't even say he loved his own WIFE! He had married her for her lineage, and because her sister had married his own brother and had birthed a son before dying.

When Arthur's brother had died, Arthur had offered marriage to the boy's aunt, and a home for the child ... knowing that the boy was in line for the throne of Genovia. Not that there had been any likelihood at the time of such an occurrence, of course, given that King Rupert seemed hale and hearty, as did the Crown Prince Philippe. There was no point in not being prepared, however. Now his nephew, and therefore himself as regent, was second only to the American grand-daughter who had just been discovered. No, he was not in love with his wife, but she had finally proved useful. How foolish were men who allow their hearts to rule their heads! That toadying Head of Security was a prime example! It was obvious to the entire country that he doted on the queen, and had done so since Rupert's death. That meant, to Arthur's mind, that the lovesick idiot had to have felt the same way for years. Arthur shook his head in disgust. HE would never be such a fool!

"You don't agree?" Clarisse's icy voice broke into his thoughts and Arthur inwardly berated himself as he was forced to pay attention to the subject at hand and placate the woman before him. After all, for the moment she DID hold the throne of Genovia! And power, for Arthur, was a very potent aphrodisiac.

Finally taking his leave, Arthur strode out to his limousine, snarling at the oafs who couldn't get the doors open fast enough for such an important personage as himself. Seated in the back seat as he was whisked home, he pondered the transformation of the queen in the few months since he had last seen her. She wasn't even wearing BLACK any more! That horrified Arthur. Yes, it had been fifteen months since the King's death, but only four since the Crown Prince had been killed in that accident. Something else had changed her from a rather tart, hard and almost disillusioned old woman into a woman whose passion was beginning to come to life ... and more, a very, very attractive woman! Women were such weak creatures that he assumed it was probably her grand-daughter's assumption of the role as Princess of Genovia that had effected the metamorphosis, but he wondered if it were something or indeed someONE more. What or whoever had caused the difference in her bothered him, because now he was feeling a sexual attraction to her which he had not really ever felt before, and which annoyed him intensely. Suddenly he leaned forward and barked a new order to his driver, then sat back, rubbing his growing erection as he thought about Queen Clarisse and cursed himself for such weakness.

O o O o O o

Clarisse had always thought herself to be a strong person, a woman who knew what was required of her by her marriage and by her loyalty and allegiance to Genovia. She had done everything that had been asked of her, including her participation in a marriage that had been arranged for the greater good of Genovia and other nations, a marriage that had had nothing to do with people's hearts. At the time of the wedding, she had felt it right, as had Rupert. Already schooled in duty, time and patience had ensured that their relationship, if not real romance, had grown to the place where they had been best friends and companions.

Now, after Rupert's death, she found that questions never before asked were raising themselves in her mind. Was she owed anything? Did she have any rights? Did she have the right to a life beyond the role she had been raised to play? Was she entitled to know the fire of a man and a woman who felt passionately about each other? And the question foremost in Clarisse's mind was: how could she, in her position, even explore these questions without being discovered and disgraced, thereby endangering the already fragile succession of Mia to the throne of Genovia – especially if the person with whom she wished to do her exploring was her Head of Security! She sighed. Sometimes being strong was not about doing what one wanted, regardless of others. Rather, it was about acknowledging what one could never have and being faithful to that to which one had sworn allegiance despite the cost.

She signed the final papers dealing with the national pear orchard's lease on crown land and put the completed folder on the stack to her right. Then she checked her watch. Charlotte noticed the movement and jumped to her feet.

"Your Majesty! I'm sorry, I wasn't watching the time! They should be here any minute!"

"That's what I was hoping to hear," Clarisse smiled. "These are all finished." She stood up. "I'm just going to freshen up ..."

"I'll let you know when the limousine passes through the gates," Charlotte promised.

"Thank you, Charlotte," and Clarisse retreated to her private rooms to peer anxiously into the mirror and realize she looked as worn out as she felt.

Knowing she hadn't left herself much time, Clarisse feverishly changed from one outfit to another, trying to tell herself that it was completely normal to be fussing about her clothes before seeing her grand-daughter. After all, this was a monumental occasion ... Mia's first visit to Genovia! And it had been six weeks since she had seen him ... HER! Although she was alone, and not speaking audibly, Clarisse's cheeks reddened slightly at her mental slip. That's all it was, of course. She was not in here primping before seeing JOSEPH, for heaven's sake! Finally she left on a vivid blue outfit, excusing her choice of Joseph's favourite colour on her by reason of lack of time. And the ONLY reason she knew that Joseph liked seeing her in it was that previously he had commented when she had worn the outfit that she looked exceptionally beautiful.

"Your Majesty, the limousine is here," Charlotte's soft voice penetrated Clarisse's thoughts, and she jumped before realizing she was still alone.

"I'll be right out, Charlotte. You go on down to meet them ..."

Hearing Charlotte's rapid footsteps retreating, Clarisse took a deep breath and willed her excitement to subside. He was home at last! Throwing up her hands in disgust that her willful desires remained fixated on her Head of Security rather than more properly on her newly-discovered grand-daughter, Clarisse made her way downstairs. Before announcing herself, she paused at the top of the flight of stairs and studied the girl below. Mia, looking very lovely and so very different from young frizz-topped girl of two months ago, was gazing around open-mouthed at the splendour of the palace while Charlotte was welcoming her. Joseph was ... Joseph was staring up at Clarisse as if sensing her presence and even at that distance she could almost feel the sparks passing between them. Then he looked away quickly.

Fastening a smile of welcome on her face, Clarisse came down the stairs smoothly, greeting Mia cordially. "Amelia, I'm so happy to welcome you ..." she began, but then her emotion overwhelmed her, and after a slight hesitation, she pulled her grand-daughter into a tight embrace, then released her with a faint laugh.

"WOW, Grandma, this place is COOL! I can't wait until Lily gets here next month and we can explore! And Mom'll die when she sees it!"

Biting back the comment that Helen had obviously not wanted to see the palace sixteen years ago when she had decided to divorce Prince Philippe rather than live here in Genovia, Clarisse made a non-committal sound, then said, "How was your flight?"

"Long. But I wrote in my diary and talked to Fat Louis ..."

"Fat Louis?" Clarisse raised her eyebrows.

"Of course! He had to come with me to see his new home. Well, holiday home for now," Mia amended quickly, looking anxious and beginning to bite her thumbnail. "Joe DID talk to you about that, didn't he?"

Clarisse's eyes met Joseph's again for a very brief moment, and again felt a sizzle of heat shiver over her. She had to force herself to look back at Mia. "Yes. I received verbal reports once a week ..." and she had found herself longing for more, trying to decipher each of his words and tone to see if he had missed her as much as she had missed him. "We'll discuss that matter later, perhaps when your mother arrives."

"Okay, but there's not a lot to discuss ..." Mia began, looking mutinous. She subsided at a quick look from Joseph.

"If you will excuse me, your Majesty, I'd best check in with Shades," Joseph said formally.

"Shades?" Clarisse repeated blankly. The security team in Genovia employed someone called SHADES? "I thought Scott was your second in command!"

"Shades?" Mia swung around. "You actually work with a guy called SHADES? I LOVE it, Joe!"

"So does Charlotte, your Highness," Joseph permitted himself a slight smile at Charlotte's instant protests and added, glancing at Clarisse, "and Shades is Scott's nickname, your Majesty." Then he bowed before taking his leave.

"CHARLOTTE? Charlotte LOVES ...?" Mia stared at Charlotte, who was flushed. Then Mia grinned. "Cool! Your boyfriend works with Joe, and you work with Grandma! Sounds like you guys have it made!"

With visible strain, Charlotte changed the subject. "Your Majesty, Joseph informed me that the paper AND the television reporters were on hand at the airport today."

"I was looking all over for you, Grandma! I thought you'd meet us there!" Mia cried, remembering the crowds at the airport.

"Queens never wait around airports," Clarisse said, coolly. "I had far too much to do. As it is, I just finished signing all my papers before you got here. You will find, Amelia, that such duties will take up a great deal of your time when you are queen."

Mia made a face, then said, "Oh well, that won't be for a long time yet!"

"I assume you are tired after your flight. Charlotte will show you your room. I am meeting with delegates from the Belgian Trade Group in two hours and will be discussing the issues that arise from that with Sebastian Motaz. I don't expect to be free to see you again until tomorrow morning, when I have set aside a half an hour for your princess lessons."

"Well, I'm really not ti..." Mia's voice trailed off as she caught Clarisse's slight frown and the barest movement of Charlotte's head in a negative motion. "Okay ... lead on, Charlotte," she quickly said. "Tell me about your boyfriend."

"He's not my ..." Charlotte began indignantly before stopping herself and, once more appearing calm and in control, bowed to Clarisse and said, "Your Majesty, I will have tea sent up to your suite at once, and will be in your office in an hour with the papers necessary for your meeting."

"Thank you. Good night, Amelia." Clarisse was about to turn away when she suddenly caught a glimpse of uncertainty in her grand-daughter's eyes. In that moment, she realized anew how very like her father the young girl was. Philippe would never allow anyone or any situation to cause him to display his fear openly. He faced it like the courageous prince he was ... and now his daughter was valiantly doing the same thing. "Mia," Clarisse said abruptly, not sure why she was about to say the following, but unable to stop herself, "would you care to join me? If you're not too tired, that is ..."

"Are you kidding?" Mia beamed. "Princesses NEVER get tired! They have too much to do!"

Charlotte smothered her amusement, but Clarisse allowed a tender smile to slip out as she said, "NOW you are learning, my dear. NOW you are behaving like the true princess you are!"

O o O o O o to be continued


	2. Chapter 2

The summer passed faster than Clarisse had ever remembered a summer unfolding. Never had she been so busy. The first morning, Mia had come downstairs to find herself headline news in the Genovia Times.

Indeed, as Mia had entered the dining room that first day, Elsie Kentworthy had been posing pointed queries on the television. "Will Genovia Survive the Awkward American Princess?" Elsie had asked. "IS beauty only skin deep? Can the leopard change his spots? We'll see what happens when the heat is turned on! Keep your eggs sunny side up, and stay tuned to Eggs With Elsie for your daily rep ...!"

Charlotte had quickly turned off the television, but Mia had been a little upset by the woman's broadcast. Clarisse had had a short and succinct talk with her grand-daughter about having to turn a blind eye to the media, counselling her that one should only believe fifty percent of what was heard and half of what was seen.

After that first morning, Mia and indeed Clarisse herself were almost daily fodder for the Royal Watch page of the paper as well as a portion of Eggs With Elsie on the television. Charlotte and Joseph had attempted to put a stop to the publicity, but it seemed as though both the newspaper and television reporters had decided to give the public of Genovia as much as possible of the American princess and her queenly grandmother, and the general populace of the country was interested in every little detail.

O o O o O o

Mia had learned a bit about Genovia and more about the people around her by the time her mother and her friend Lily had joined her for her last month in Genovia. At one point when preparing for her mother's arrival, Mia had said that mothers were vitally important, that she didn't see how she could have existed if she hadn't had her mother, and had asked if Charlotte agreed. To Mia's amazement, there had been an awkward silence, then Charlotte had murmured her agreement, her face flushing.

Afterwards, Clarisse had informed Mia that Charlotte had been a foundling and raised in an orphanage.

"She's awfully smart, Grandma! She went to university, right?"

"I assume so."

"You must have publicly funded post-secondary education, then ... I mean, from an orphanage? I'm wondering how Mom is going to pay for ME to go to college ... well, I WAS wondering ... before I knew about being a princess and stuff."

"I believe Charlotte's education was paid for by an anonymous gentleman," Clarisse had said absently, her mind already on other matters. "The same one who arranged for her to have the job as my aide."

"REALLY? Cool! Wonder if it was her real dad or something? She doesn't know who paid for it?"

"Anonymous generally means NO one knows," Clarisse had spoken dryly, "and none of this is of any importance whatsoever!" she had added meaningfully, and Mia had nodded in agreement, telling her grandmother that Charlotte was the best aide any queen OR princess could have, as far as SHE could see!

"She'll stay and help me when I'm queen, won't she?" she had added. "She's not going to marry Shades and quit work or anything, right, Grandma?"

Clarisse had reassured her grand-daughter even while she had wondered herself and had made a mental note to raise the younger woman's salary BEFORE trying to find out what Charlotte's views were towards marriage in general and Scott ... or Shades, as he seemed to prefer being called, in particular.

O o O o O o

"I don't think Eggs with Elsie LIKES me!" Mia had wailed another morning near the end of the summer when Charlotte had again been forced to turn off the television in the middle of Elsie Kentworthy reporting on "yet another mishap in the teenage princess' life. Will Genovia stand the strain until the awkward child grows up? Or will we be turning to Baron von Troken and his wife who have been patiently awaiting their chance to rule? Is running a country too much for a single woman? Dare I remind the country that Queen Clarisse is now single? Perhaps she should consider re-marriage, as an example to her grand-dau ..."

Clarisse had been too stunned by Elsie's words about her own private life to placate Mia that day. She had excused herself and had walked in the garden, struggling to control her anger at what could only have been a question in everyone's mind. Yes, she, Queen Clarisse, was now single again. And, unbeknownst to the general public _SHE HAD THOUGHT_, she HAD been considering re-marriage ... especially after receiving a particularly unwelcome note from the Viscount Mabrey.

Shortly after Mia's arrival in Genovia, the Viscountess had lost her struggle to live, and had been buried with due pomp and circumstance. The Viscount had withdrawn to his estate, ostensibly to mourn. However, just the day before Elsie Kentworthy had raised the queen's marital status to the forefront of the minds of the people of Genovia, the Viscount had sent a private, personal letter "to Queen Clarisse, widow of the late King Rupert, may he rest in peace!" and in it, had hinted quite broadly at the very issues Elsie had raised. What is more, he had had the effrontery to point out that he was now in a similar situation, having lost his beloved wife. He pompously had written that he felt that it was his duty, however, to rise above his grief and carry on with his responsibilities ... and a second marriage was not out of the question for anyone, regardless of his or her particular station in life. The Viscount had ended by saying he hoped to meet with the queen privately sometime in early fall, as he had matters of duty and responsibility to discuss with her. He had signed it, "Arthur, named for the legendary and powerful king of the British Isles who, in his day, married for political reasons and created a perfect kingdom."

While walking, almost MARCHING through the gardens, only slightly conscious of Joseph as he had kept her in sight, Clarisse had again clenched her fists at her side, wishing she had shredded the note instead of giving in to the impulse to crumple it and bury it beneath the logs in the fireplace. After all, shredding would have destroyed it far sooner than having to wait until winter when the fire would be lit. Then Clarisse had suddenly stopped in her tracks ... wondering if, with his letter, Arthur Mabrey had been attempting to ... WOO her, ludicrous though that may seem. She had shuddered at the mere thought, trying to force it out of her mind ... but to no avail.

Then a deep, husky voice, a voice she knew well, had driven the Viscount from her mind just by his words, "Your Majesty?"

She had turned to find Joseph's face very close to hers, and a tremor had gone through her as she had quickly backed up a step, even while trying to smile and assure him that she was fine. Yes, Mia had been foremost in her mind and her heart this summer, but Joseph had been vying for his place there too. Ever since his return from America ... ever since they had been in America together ... he had been stirring emotions in her that had long been dormant and she had not been sure she could or should trust herself with those feelings.

"Clarisse ..." Joseph's voice had trailed away, but his eyes had continued to speak to her.

Her throat clogged with tears she could not shed, Clarisse had shaken her head and stepped back again. "No, Joseph. No. I'm sorry. I ... I am glad you are home ... back in Genovia ... but ... no. We ... we can't. Not yet."

Inexplicably his eyes had lit up. "Not yet? Ah, then you are holding out a bit of hope for me to cling to: that sometime in the future ... there WILL be a future for us!"

"Joseph ..." she had almost moaned, feeling the agony of being torn between duty and personal desire.

"All I need is a yes, Clarisse ... then I will not do a thing or say another word to further my suit. Just one little word is all I ask at this time ... just say yes, Clarisse."

There had been a silence, then, her face flushing slightly, Clarisse had turned to retreat back into the safe walls of her palace. She had not been able to give him the assurance he craved ... nor could she close the door completely to him. "Perhaps," she had whispered, not looking at him, and had hastened away before he could say anything more.

O o O o O o

Shortly after Mia's arrival in Genovia, Parliament had convened at the call of the Prime Minister for a short session to deal with the issue of where the princess was going to live for the five years before she attained her majority. After speaking with Mia first, then to Helen on the telephone, then with Sebastian Motaz, Clarisse had stood before the Parliament with the unusual request to allow the princess to continue living with her mother in the United States of America. The more contentious members of Parliament, the Viscount Mabrey in particular, had not been present, so after a short debate, it had been agreed that Princess Mia would be assigned an experienced body guard and would remain in San Francisco until her schooling was finished, although frequent visits to Genovia were advised. After her twenty-first birthday, the Princess would return to Genovia permanently, and, when both Parliament and Queen Clarisse felt it appropriate, Princess Mia would be crowned Queen Amelia.

For one dreadful moment, when Lord Palimore had insisted upon an experienced body guard for the princess, Clarisse had had visions of Joseph being sent to the United States. That thought, almost more than any other over the last year, had solidified her belief that she had fallen in love with her Head of Security. Although she had not been aware of revealing her thoughts, and indeed had done a marvellous job hiding them, the Prime Minister had noticed her start, had seen her hands clench momentarily, and had realized her face had paled alarmingly.

Instantly Sebastian had said, not even looking at Queen Clarisse, "As Head of Security for the Royal Family, naturally Joseph will take the utmost care in choosing the person or persons who will be responsible for the princess. Princess Mia herself should also be given a chance to meet and approve of the bodyguard assigned to her. Indeed, perhaps it might be possible to assign a woman to her, as no doubt she would feel much more comfortable with another female. The Genovian Attaché Corps DOES have a Special Security division, and I do believe there are quite a few highly-trained and qualified bodyguards who are women. In fact, I can even think of one I would recommend! Of course, she is currently serving in the Driving Division, but if she is willing, it shouldn't be a problem to switch her back to the Special Security section for this assignment. I would say we could easily provide the Princess with a female bodyguard!"

A woman? Colour had rushed back into Clarisse's cheeks. The buzz among the members of Parliament had been unusually loud and prolonged as the matter had been debated, then had finally been tabled until a list of candidates could be presented to the Prime Minister, the Queen, the Head of Security and the princess herself. Clarisse had permitted herself to smile gratefully at Sebastian, and he had gallantly escorted her down the steps to the floor of Parliament without disclosing his perceptive deductions about or to his sovereign.

Then, after what had seemed like a whirlwind summer, Mia was gone again, almost regretfully leaving Clarisse "alone" in Genovia.

"Hardly alone, Mia," Clarisse had said, somewhat amused by Mia's words.

"Oh, I know you have Charlotte ... and of course Joseph is always around, but, well, I was meaning FAMILY. Doesn't Uncle Pierre ever come home?"

"Not very often," Clarisse had said softly. "Not often enough at all."

"If ... if you were to marry again ... you know, like Eggs with Elsie said that time ..."

"Mia, really! Her name is Elsie Kentworthy, NOT 'Eggs with Elsie' ... and I have no intentions of marrying again, especially not for political reasons!" Clarisse's voice had been rather sharp, and Mia had prudently left the matter alone.

O o O o O o


	3. Chapter 3

"Some of the members of Parliament have been pointing out the article that was in the Royal Watch part of the paper last week. Did you happen to see it, your Majesty? Claiming that women who were, well, sexually satisfied in marriage performed better in the other areas of their lives."

"Are YOU advising me to marry, Sebastian?" Clarisse asked pointedly, her eyebrows raised. "Am I suddenly considered not fit to rule simply because I no longer have a husband, even though he has not been ruling the country for the last three years, due first to his illness, then to his death? Do you really think a man, ANY man, in my be ... er, life ... would make a significant difference to my ability to reign?"

The Prime Minister reddened. He had known this would be an extremely touchy subject with the queen. And why not? HE wasn't sure he believed she should marry, either! Queen Clarisse had been doing a superior job ruling Genovia. However, he had been pressed by some of the Parliamentarians to speak to her about marriage, since the princess would not be crowned queen for another five years.

"Could you tell me who has been raising this issue?" Clarisse continued questioning him.

Sebastian shook his head. "That is not the point, your Majesty. Suffice to say, there has been enough talk, and as the prime minister, it is my unwelcome duty to lay the matter before you."

Clarisse suspected that it was the Viscount Mabrey behind the movement, and indeed she was quite right. However, Arthur Mabrey was not interested in having Baron von Troken and his wife to be running Genovia either, and those two continued to press to be allowed to sit in Parliament and to have their voices heard. Consequently, Arthur continued to verbally support the Queen and the Renaldi rule and kept turning down Baron von Troken's applications to be a member of Parliament. Upon reflection, Arthur had decided that it was much too soon for him to reveal his plan with regard to his nephew, so it behooved him to pander to the status quo for the moment. By focussing attention on the marital status of the Queen, Arthur hoped to buy himself some much needed time and perhaps even, if he managed it right, a throne.

The Head of Security for the Royal Family, Joseph, was quite obviously romantically interested in the queen. Arthur curled his lip at the thought, hating the hot stab of desire that shot through him at the thought of Clarisse. Now that the woman had demeaned herself by her obvious interest in her Head of Security, or more properly worded, by not objecting to HIS catering to HER, Mabrey no longer considered her royalty. She had only married into it, as had he, although his late wife's blue blood had been considerably paler blue that Rupert's. If he, Arthur, married Clarisse NOW, he would be able to gradually take back the reins of power that should never have been granted to a woman who had no royal blood whatsoever flowing through her veins.

O o O o O o

"Your Majesty," Charlotte spoke hesitantly, "I thought you should know that Shades, er, Scott is not feeling very well at all. His throat is sore, he aches all over ... and I can't get him to stop work long enough to try to rest and recover! I know it's not your place to ..."

Clarisse took off her glasses and rubbed her temples where a headache had been making itself known for a while. "I know how he must feel, Charlotte ..."

"Aren't you well either?" Charlotte asked, alarmed.

Shaking her head, refusing to give in to her weakness, Clarisse smiled. "I'm fine. I'll BE fine. And I'm sure Scott will be as well. No doubt it's just a little bug caused by stress ... and not getting enough rest over the summer while Mia was here. After all, we ARE getting older ..."

Charlotte's eyes showed her worry. "But your Majesty, if neither one of you will slow down and give your bodies time to recover, you could REALLY be ill ..."

"Oh, tosh, Charlotte! There is really no need to worry. My throat is feeling better now, and my headache is almost gone! You'll see!"

Unconvinced, Charlotte nodded slowly.

By the next day, however, quite a few of the maids and the footmen in the palace were complaining of similar symptoms, and the disease seemed to be spreading rapidly. Joseph tried to make Shades rest, but the other man insisted on helping, since even hourly more and more of the palace workers were calling in sick and taking to their beds. In a matter of only a very few days, the palace went from being a busy hive of activity, the heart of the country, to being a shell of a building, almost completely deserted.

Shades finally had to admit defeat when he could no longer lift his head off his pillow without experiencing extreme pain and dizziness which made him violently ill. Clarisse, although experiencing many of the symptoms, nevertheless was able to pretend to the others around her that she wasn't nearly as ill as she looked. If only she didn't feel so WEAK, she lamented as she sat limply at her desk, staring at a pile of papers to be signed and not wanting even to go to the effort of picking up her pen. She stood up and walked over to the window, staring out unseeingly. What illness could it be that was decimating the palace population, and even the people of Pyrus, if truth be told?

A knock came at her office door. "Your Majesty, the Viscount is here. Are you SURE you want to meet with him alone?" Joseph stood before Clarisse, his voice grave and his manner concerned. He had taken her hand and kissed the back of it, retaining her fingers in his as he questioned her softly.

Clarisse wasn't sure of anything, not even her own name, when his gaze scorched a path from her head to her toes, lingering on her lips and her breasts, leaving a trail of tingling flesh in its wake. By the way her body reacted to his burning glance, it was as if he had branded her. Catching her breath, she daringly stepped closer, her eyes focussed on the irresistibly potent sign of his virility. Her lower body flooded with a white-hot wash of desire for his touch, and her heart pounded with the overwhelming urge to press close to him, to wrap herself around him ...

Only his strained, "Your Majesty, as you know, I am ever at your service ... I can send the Viscount away ..." brought her back to reality.

Clarisse had to force herself to step back from him. "Thank you, Joseph." she said huskily, adding with effort, "Please, send the Viscount Mabrey in." The Viscount was the last person she wanted to see, especially right at this precise moment, but he had written another note a few days ago, requesting a private audience, saying he had something very vital to impart.

Arthur strode confidently into the room, his eyes narrowing as he noticed Joseph's parting glance at the queen, and saw her somewhat agitated state. Bending down to kiss her hand, holding it more firmly than necessary, he noticed her breathing was quite rapid and her colour high. His lips touched the back of her hand, her scent filled his senses, and suddenly visions of the commoner, Joseph, having dared to touch royalty, even visually, and causing such a strong reaction in her made Arthur burn. A fury he never had learned to control rushed over him. He straightened abruptly, without saying a word, one hand slid around her neck to grip the hair on the back of her head, the other encircled her waist and yanked her closer to him.

Even as Clarisse cried out in startled outrage, his lips crashed down on hers. The heated bulge in his trousers made contact with the dampened, still-throbbing place between her legs aroused earlier by Joseph. She automatically raised her knee between his legs in an attempt to free herself, but he rubbed once and a horrified Clarisse felt her body shatter softly and involuntarily against his before her knee jerked up and made contact with his body. Although he had felt her spasms, he forgot it momentarily as he swore violently at the agony she had inflicted on him, released her and hunched over trying to recover from the excruciating pain.

Clarisse was immobile in her fury, drawing herself up regally and clenching her fists at her side. His attack on her was unconscionable! Sickened by the realization that, had he actually felt it, he would assume her response was to his actions, Clarisse nevertheless refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing that he had broken through her defences so effectively.

After a moment of breathing heavily trying to control his pain, Arthur straightened up slowly. His eyes glittering triumphantly into hers even though pain tinged his countenance. "Perhaps it is true, your Majesty ...we all have our needs that must be met, even royalty. I've been reading about you in the Genovia Times ... and Elsie Kentworthy seems to think your mind has turned to re-marriage ... or is it merely ... sexual satisfaction?" he taunted, not exactly sure what sort of reaction he hoped to provoke, but certain that he would not be disappointed. He was mistaken.

Her voice was cold, hard and distant as she said, "This audience is terminated, Viscount Mabrey."

"I haven't said what I wanted to say ... or finished doing what I would like to do ..." His hands reached for her as he advanced once more, but Clarisse sidestepped him coolly, and she pressed the call button Joseph had installed under the edge of her desk the previous year.

"On the contrary, you are QUITE finished, Viscount Mabrey," Clarisse said icily.

Scant moments later, when Joseph stepped in after a polite knock, he ignored Arthur's infuriated scowl and said politely to Clarisse, "Your Majesty?"

"The Viscount is leaving now, Joseph. Will you see him out, please? Right to his limousine?"

"Very well, your Majesty."

"Viscount Mabrey," Clarisse's tone was dismissive and she sat down at her desk and picked up her pen, ignoring the men.

Arthur's face darkened further at her crisp dismissal, but he had no choice. "Your Majesty," he gritted out before turning on his heel and stalking grimly to his vehicle, too proud to admit to the agony he was still feeling.

O o O o O o

It was a damn good thing the queen had been taken by surprise and hadn't managed to knee him quite as forcefully as she probably would have wished, Arthur thought, carefully rubbing himself as his limousine drew away from the palace. Damned woman was every bit as frigid as he had THOUGHT she was! To his great annoyance and frustration, he realized that, in spite of all that, he STILL found her attractive! If only he could have her in his power for an hour ... half an hour ... TEN MINUTES! He would show her who was the most powerful! Finding himself nursing a huge erection after imagining himself subjecting the queen to a time of sexual bondage, he growled in fury, then shouted out a new order to his driver.

Dropped off on a busy downtown street near some office buildings and having arranged to be picked up in an hour, Arthur began to walk, mingling with the crowds as he worked his way to a very different part of town. Arriving at the dingy apartment house he had first visited forty years ago and sporadically since then, he banged on the ground floor door. When she opened the door, he barely had time to close it behind himself before he had ripped off her clothes, released himself, and they were entwined together on the floor. Finally he was relieving himself of all the frustration and desire he had built up, gritting his teeth as the tortuous pain from his injured member fed his frenzied movements and heightened his twisted pleasure. He closed his eyes, pretending to himself that it was the cool, collected Queen Clarisse he was subduing. Yet at the peak of his pleasure, he found himself wondering if the passion displayed by the woman beneath him was even POSSIBLE in the 'ice queen'. Some day, he might find out ... no, he WOULD find out! He would do whatever possible to get his hands on Queen Clarisse AND the throne. That inward promise fuelled his urgency as he pounded into the woman, finally exploding with a shout of exultation.

"I need more money ... your DAUGHTER needs more money." She lay sprawled on her back beneath him as their breathing gradually slowed down.

"I told you last time, NO MORE MONEY!" Suddenly furious again, Arthur glared down at her. "She has had an education, she has a good job that I managed to secure for her – one of the best jobs in the country, let alone this city! She gets nothing more from me! No one knows she's related to ME, and I intend to keep it that way!"

Mutinously she glared right back at him. "She wants to know your name ... the name of the father who made her, abandoned her, mysteriously paid for her expensive education and yet won't reveal his identity. She says she needs to know who her parents are! I'm meeting her tomorrow morning at 11:00, and by God, I'll tell her your name if you don't hand over more money!"

Arthur gripped her throat with his powerful hand. "You haven't said anything to her, have you? You promised you would keep my name out of it!"

She pushed at him ineffectively. "Of course I haven't told her anything! She doesn't even know I'M her mother! I meet her at a coffee shop. She just knows that I know her parents! Let go of me, damn it! I WON'T tell her anything if you pay up! If you don't, then ... I'm telling everything I know, and your name, VISCOUNT MABREY, will be worth NOTHING ... LESS than nothing ... in Pyrus and the rest of Genovia!"

Arthur's rage overcame him, and he choked her viciously. He had wealth, power, and an impeccable background and nothing would ever take that away from him! NOTHING! No puny, delusional, powerless female would EVER get the best of him! Getting to his feet, rearranging and dusting off his clothes, he exited the house, not sparing another glance at the body on the floor behind him. NEVER would he reveal himself to his illegitimate daughter!

O o O o O o to be continued


	4. Chapter 4

Clarisse gradually came awake, aware that her entire body was aching and that every movement required a supreme effort. She could only assume it was from the Viscount's assault the previous afternoon. That man was an absolute SNAKE! Stifling a groan, she managed to get herself off the bed, and speak pleasantly to her ladies' maids.

"Your Majesty? Your voice sounds ... different. Are you all right?" Olivia asked diffidently.

"I'm fine. Just ... getting old."

"Hope I look that terrific when I'M that old ..." Priscilla mumbled.

"My throat is a little sore," Olivia said slowly. "Is yours all right, your Majesty?"

"Just a little dry. I'll be fine once I have my tea," Clarisse assured her. Then she frowned. "Perhaps you should have the doctor look at you, Olivia. In case you are coming down with that ..."

Priscilla grinned. "Kissing disease! So, Olivia, who've YOU been kissing lately?" she teased. "Shades was complaining of a sore throat before he really crashed ... but I thought Charlotte had him hooked!"

Olivia swatted the taller girl. "Don't be ridiculous! It's nothing."

Clarisse had hoped that by the time she got to the breakfast room, her aches and pains would have disappeared, but it was not to be. Still, they were not enough to slow her down. "Good morning, Charlotte!" she greeted her aide cheerfully. "How are you today?"

"I'm ... all right, your Majesty," Charlotte said, slowly, not smiling.

Her smile fading, Clarisse asked, "What is it?"

Without answering, Charlotte rather reluctantly handed Clarisse the Genovian Times, open to the Royal Watch page. Clarisse looked at the headline,_ True Love's Kiss: Kill or Cure?_, and rolled her eyes. She glanced at the pictures, lightly teasing Charlotte about the one of Shades and the aide and scoffing at the ones of herself. Then she read the text, and frowned. "They are blaming the PALACE for this disease? Oh, tosh! That's ridiculous! And blaming ME for spreading it? Of course, I AM kissing or being kissed by quite a few people according to these pictures! CHARLOTTE! This isn't ME kissing that man!" and she pointed indignantly to the picture in the bottom left corner.

Charlotte bent over to study the paper again, then looked back at Clarisse apologetically. "It LOOKS like you. And the earrings that woman is wearing look like ones you have."

"Who is the disgruntled employee the paper mentions?" Clarisse changed the subject, too weary all of a sudden to argue further.

"I believe it must be Mary ... she was a nanny here for the employee daycare. Actually, it was almost confusing for a while, because we had a Mary AND a Maria! I understand that Mary was doing some rather ... unorthodox things with the children and some of the parents protested, so Nanny had to let her go."

"Nanny would know. She has been in charge here for a long time." Clarisse smiled as she remembered the woman who had been nanny to her sons when they were small.

"Ummm, your Majesty, would it be possible for me to take a couple of hours off this morning? I have an appointment downtown at 11:00," Charlotte asked.

"Of course, Charlotte! Anytime ... you know that!"

"Thank you. Eggs with Elsie is on right now ... perhaps we should watch it?" Charlotte suggested.

"Do I want to know what Mary is going to say?" Clarisse asked dryly.

Charlotte hesitated, then said, "Knowing Elsie as I do from when we were young, I'd say she can be fairly dangerous with a little bit of knowledge, and probably it is best to hear what she is saying first hand in order to refute it quickly if need be."

"Oh, very well," Clarisse sighed, and Charlotte turned on the television.

"This is Elsie Kentworthy, bringing you the latest on the palace scandal! As you all know, I'm sure, the rumours are that the QUEEN has been behaving in a rather promiscuous manner for the last few months, and, it seems, has been infecting many people, men AND women. Here with me today is Mary P., a former nanny with the Palace Employee Daycare Centre. Tell me, Mary, is Queen Clarisse REALLY promiscuous? I must say, although I have hear many things, I have never heard THAT before about the queen!"

"Shall I turn it off, your Majesty?" Charlotte asked hurriedly, seeing Clarisse's tense posture as she gripped her teacup, staring at the television.

"No, I must hear what is being said," Clarisse managed to say calmly.

Mary was saying, "First of all, I would like to make one thing perfectly clear. All the maids in the palace, and I'm sure you're aware of how many there are and how knowledgeable they are, know that the queen is very attracted to a certain person in the security team. However, this summer, some notes between a certain ... nobleman ... and the queen were intercepted."

"The queen? And a nobleman? REALLY?" Elsie's eyebrows were raised. "How does anyone know the queen supposedly wrote them? I understood the notes from the woman were all unsigned."

"What utter nonsense! Why do you always complicate things that are really quite simple? Of course they were signed!" Mary P. folded her arms mutinously.

"Perhaps you could explain to us ..."

"Excuse me," Mary said haughtily, "but I never explain anything."

Elsie looked startled for a moment, then narrowed her eyes. "I spoke to a woman known simply as Nanny to all and sundry, and she told me, as the head of the daycare where you used to work, that she had sacked you because of your tendency to instill wild thoughts into children's heads, not to mention all the stories you were spreading about Queen Clarisse amongst the maids ..."

"Sacked me?" Mary was aghast. "I am NEVER sacked! That's going a bit too far, don't you think? As a matter of fact, I am practically perfect in every way!

"Nanny's exact words were, 'Oh, my stars, stars, stars! Sometimes, no matter how much we WANT to help, it's just not possible. Mary P. knows it's just not done! We have to be protective of the queen, not obstructive, because her heart is broken, and it's a terrible thing to have your heart broken. Queen Clarisse is above our station! She deserves much more than this, much, much, much! That is why I finally had to let Mary go, for sure, sure, sure.' So it DOES sound as if you were fired!" Elsie insisted.

"Turn it off, please, Charlotte," Clarisse said tightly, holding herself rigid. She adored Nanny, but how COULD she have blurted out that nonsense about a broken heart? Clarisse's head began to pound excruciatingly.

Charlotte turned off the television with a sympathetic look. "I must go and get ready for my appointment. Joseph said he would be in soon, as he needs to speak with you urgently."

"Thank you," Clarisse said faintly.

When Charlotte had gone, Clarisse sat staring into her teacup. She wasn't sure she could face Joseph after last night. When he had returned from escorting the Viscount outside, Clarisse had been visibly shaking. He had instantly drawn her close and demanded an explanation. Clarisse had partially admitted to him what the Viscount had said and done ... that is, she had told Joseph everything except her instinctive reaction to the vile man's touch. "That ... that SNAKE had even had ONIONS and GARLIC for lunch!" she had shuddered.

She was convinced now that the illness causing her weakness had also been responsible for her nestling into Joseph's arms, welcoming the warmth surrounding her comfortingly as she had struggled to recover emotionally. Joseph had, of course, promptly offered to arrest the Viscount for daring to lay a hand on the Queen, but Clarisse had tremblingly said she couldn't bear for any of this to be made public. She was sure he wouldn't do it again ... and she had raised tear-filled eyes to Joseph's to beg him to forget it as she would try to do.

Then Joseph had kissed her. His touch had immediately erased the horrible recollection of the Viscount's assault, and had given her new and far sweeter memories. His seductive touch had stirred something primitive and wild deep inside her, making her moan for the sheer wonder of it. The soft sound had been lost in the growl that had rippled from his body into hers as he had deepened the kiss. Hot, needful things she had never felt before had shattered, splintered and grown quickly with the rhythm he had set. She had felt she had to get even closer or die of the ache building in her body. She had never heard Charlotte's approach, and marvelled now that Joseph had ... so that by the time Charlotte had discreetly knocked on the office door and entered, Clarisse had been seated at her desk and Joseph had been standing at the window, turned so that Charlotte could not see how fully aroused he was.

Shame now heated Clarisse's skin and she was very glad she was alone. Joseph's kisses had turned her from her usual calm and controlled self into someone she did not recognize ... she had been a wild and hungry wanton last night. Just thinking about the feel of his mouth melding with hers, his hands stroking and caressing as hers did the same, made her pulse soar once more and her flesh tingle deliciously. She had never dreamt that a man's touch could turn her inside out. She had truly thought she MIGHT be frigid, firmly convinced that she was incapable of stronger feelings than simple compatibility and fondness! She had LIKED Rupert ... had been very, very fond of him ... but there had not been any great passion on either side, and certainly Rupert had never made her feel the way Joseph could by just one look let alone by a touch.

O o O o O o

When Joseph finally came in to Clarisse's office, it was clear that he had put last night's kiss behind him. He had very serious matters to discuss with regards to security measures in the palace. "Your Majesty," he began speaking rapidly with no further preamble. "Shades is quite ill. I took the liberty of having Dr. Howard called in. She examined him and some of the children in the daycare here ... and now wishes to speak with you."

"Of course ..." Clarisse forced herself to ignore her aches and pains and stood up, a worried frown forming, and her headache forgotten.

Joseph opened the door and ushered in a woman who looked to be Clarisse's age. "Your Majesty, Dr. Howard."

"Dr. Howard, thank you for ... oh!" Clarisse began, then broke off when she recognized the woman from the picture in the paper. "It's YOU. The one in the picture who was kissing ..."

"Yes, it is, but your Majesty, what I have to say is far more important than silly pictures in the paper." Dr. Howard smiled, then grew serious. "I'm afraid to say that we have an epidemic on our hands. Your security guard is very ill with mono, which has been worsened because of his refusal to acknowledge that he was not feeling well. A number of the children in the daycare are already at home and very ill, and of the ones I examined today, almost all of them are showing early signs of mono. I've taken the liberty of closing the daycare down until further notice, and now am asking your permission to quarantine the palace. Everyone except those who actually LIVE here must be evacuated at once."

"But ..." Clarisse was bewildered. Her headache returned with a vengeance.

"Your Majesty, Dr. Howard is right. Shades cannot lift his head off his pillow. He can't go home. I am staying, and I'm sure Charlotte will stay. When will Charlotte return?" Joseph asked.

"I ... I don't know ... She was going ... to meet someone in a coffee shop downtown. I ... I believe she was hoping for more information about her ... parents ..." Clarisse put her hands to her temples and pressed hard, hoping to calm the thundering pain.

"Your Majesty, you are ill too!" Dr. Howard exclaimed.

"No ... no, I can't be. I must be ... strong ..." Clarisse's voice was faint and she swayed.

Joseph caught her and steadied her. "Damn it, Clarisse!"

"Your Majesty," Dr. Howard said gently, "I had hoped that you could have gone elsewhere to escape the epidemic, but it looks as if you are more ill than many others I've seen. You MUST go to bed. I will be back in an hour to examine you thoroughly."

"I simply CANNOT be ill ..."

Joseph ignored Clarisse's protests, and firmly sat her in her chair. Clarisse decided it was too much trouble to fight him any further. If truth be told, she was exhausted, and her day was only one third over!

Then Charlotte burst into the office, breathlessly apologizing for her rudeness, but saying it was urgent. "Your Majesty ... I'm sorry ... I was waylaid by Elsie Kentworthy while waiting for ... for the person I was to meet to arrive. She immediately tried to question me with regard to all the rumours. She said that her sources had confirmed that the mono first surfaced here in the palace ... with SHADES! But he hasn't even been to the doctor yet, so how would she know ...?"

"Charlotte, this really isn't the time," Joseph said heavily. "Queen Clarisse is sick, too. This is Dr. Howard. She has just seen Shades and confirmed that he has mono ... and that most of the daycare seems to be infected as well. She's putting the palace in quarantine. If you want to hurry home ..."

"I've no one there. You know that. I'll stay to help the queen ... I'm still feeling fine! Does ... Is Shades in any danger?" she appealed to the doctor.

"Shades? Oh, the security guard? I'm afraid he really is very ill," Dr. Howard said, compassionately. "Joseph has been in touch with a young man who, I believe, worked here this summer?"

"Gérald," Joseph explained to Charlotte. "The security intern. He's coming in this afternoon to stay ... to help me. Charlotte, you don't LOOK fine. Queen Clarisse was just saying SHE was fine, too."

"Where is Shades?" Charlotte ignored Joseph and looked at the doctor.

"In Joseph's room, I believe," Dr. Howard said.

"Excuse me, your Majesty, I'll be right back. I MUST see Shades."

"Of course, Charlotte," Clarisse said. "Go. I'm fine. I keep telling Joseph that ..."

Joseph rolled his eyes and the doctor shook her head. Then she said quietly, "Your Majesty, I understand your ladies' maids are both sick."

"Both? Oh dear!" Clarisse was stricken for a moment.

"You really MUST get to bed. I'll help you, if Joseph will carry you to your room," and Dr. Howard looked to Joseph who nodded silently.

"I can walk!" Clarisse stood abruptly, then collapsed back on the chair, her face red.

Joseph swept her up, despite her faint protests that she was much too heavy to carry. "Be quiet and let me show off," he grinned. "You need picking up, in this case."

O o O o O o

For the next few days, Clarisse fretted about who would be taking care of things. She got much worse when told the third day that Charlotte had succumbed and was now in bed herself.

"I must get up!" she protested, but every movement made her cry out with pain and lapse back into a semi-coma.

Joseph was looking gray and drawn, and once when she was a little more alert, she managed to take hold of his hand as he was putting cold clothes on her forehead to try to cool her down.

"Joseph," her voice was hoarse and very soft. "What if the von Trokens attempt a coup? Genovia is too vulnerable ..."

"They won't ... they're both sick."

"The ... Viscount Mabrey?" she forced herself to ask.

"Surprisingly enough, he, too, is sick!" Joseph mumbled.

Gérald, who was holding the bowl of cold water for Joseph, grimaced and said, "Frankly, I can't imagine ANY woman getting close enough to kiss him! Not willingly, anyway!"

Clarisse felt herself grow warm again and said nothing, closing her eyes so as not to see Joseph's faint frown. Then she roused herself and, grimacing at the pain induced by her actions, put her hand over Joseph's and squeezed gently. "Thank you, Joseph ... for everything ..."

Tenderly he lifted her hand to his lips. "I'm at your service, your Majesty."

For a moment their eyes locked. Then Gérald cleared his throat and said, "I'll just take this to the kitchen and get some fresh water. Joseph, you don't look too good. Maybe you should lie down." Without waiting for a response, he hurried out the door of the suite.

"Joseph? Are you sick?" Clarisse's gaze searched his features carefully before her eyes began to drift shut again.

"I made a vow to care for you and protect you, Clarisse, and I intend to do that ..." Joseph said. He bent over and lightly touched her lips with his, knowing that too much pressure would cause more pain than she could bear at the moment.

"Oh, Joseph ..." Clarisse tried to open her eyes, but it was simply too much effort. She only vaguely felt the bed move beneath her, as if someone had lain down beside her, then she drifted off into a world of half-dreams and foggy pictures.

Joseph had collapsed finally, unable to force himself to continue another moment despite all his vows. All unknowing, he lay beside his beloved Clarisse.

O o O o O o to be continued


	5. Chapter 5

"Your Highness?"

Mia, who had been absently rubbing her head which was aching dully, looked up abruptly at the hoarse whisper, and her eyes took in the haggard face of the young man standing before her. She glanced quickly around the public library but no one else, aside from her bodyguard Emily who was beside the newcomer with an anxious look on her own face, seemed to notice that he had interrupted her study. "Shh!" she whispered back. "Who ... who are you?"

"Your Highness, I am Gérald. I was on the security team for the Genovian royal household this summer as an intern ..."

The sixteen-year-old princess eyed the man for a moment more, then nodded. "I sort of remember seeing you when I was there a few weeks ago," she announced.

"Yes, your Highness, I was the one assigned to escort you and your friend souvenir shopping one day ..."

"Yes, that's right. But, Gérald, what are you doing HERE?"

"Your mother told me your whereabouts when I stopped at your house."

"I mean, why are you in the United States?"

"Your Highness, I regret to inform you ..."

"My grandmother!" Mia suddenly pushed the chair back and jumped to her feet. "Something has happened, hasn't it? What is it?"

"SHHH!" came several irate reminders that they were in a quiet zone. Mia grabbed him and pulled him out of the main library into the entryway, Emily following as a matter of course.

"Her Majesty is ill," was Gérald's first statement. "It is not believed to be life-threatening ..." he added hurriedly, but not exactly convincingly.

Mia drew in a sharp breath. "Where's Joseph?"

"I regret to say, your Highness, that he is ill also ..."

"Charlotte?"

"Yes, your Highness. Also ill."

"All right, let's take this another way. Who is NOT ill in the palace?"

There was an awkward silence. Mia's face drained of colour. "They're ALL sick?" she asked incredulously. "All but YOU? Not that you're not ... oh, never mind! Why didn't anyone SEND for me?"

"Your grandmother feared that you would become ill as well."

"It's that contagious, is it?"

"It appears so, your Highness."

"Well, what IS it, Gérald?"

"Infectious mononucleosis, your Highness."

"The KISSING disease? All of the people in the palace in Genovia have the KISSING disease? SHUT UP!" Mia, in spite of the obvious seriousness of the situation, couldn't stop the smile from spreading over her face. "You're joking, right?"

"I'm afraid not, your Highness." Gérald held out a newspaper to her, the headlines screaming 'GENOVIA QUARANTINED!' "It is not just the people in the palace who are affected. I regret to inform you that the entire country of Genovia is in a state of emergency due to everyone's illness. Basically, we are paralysed. There is no one left with any authority to do ANYTHING."

"But ... Grandma? GRANDMA is really that sick that she can't rule?"

"Her Majesty was the second to fall ill, your Highness, and she remains in serious condition."

Again Mia couldn't suppress her grin. "Let me guess. Joseph was first, right?"

Gérald's face remained deadpan. "No, your highness. Shades. Joseph did not succumb until yesterday. Until that time, he cared for your grandmother since there was no one else except myself, and I had to see to all the others. Charlotte nursed Shades, but fell ill almost the same time. It appears that Joseph was sick near the beginning as well, but he pushed himself to try to keep her Majesty comfortable and worry-free by attempting to run the country as she would wish. Unfortunately, his exertions meant that yesterday he was too ill to even lift his head off the pillow." He refused to tell the princess that that pillow Joseph could not leave just happened to be one of the pillows on the queen's bed. The two of them were much too sick to worry about propriety. After all, the queen's bed WAS king-sized. There was a lot of room. And it was Dr. Howard who had decreed that neither Clarisse NOR Joseph could be moved. The few people remaining in the palace had been sworn to secrecy. Charlotte was in Joseph's room with Shades ... both very ill as well. It just made sense, according to the doctor, for the sick to be together as it made it easier for those having to nurse them.

"And that is why you are here today ..." Mia nodded. All the pieces fell into place. "So you want me to go back to Genovia ..."

"And rule until such time as your Grandmother is fit." Gérald nodded, pleased that she had caught on so quickly.

"When might that be?" Mia thought worriedly of her upcoming exams.

"No more than a few months," Gérald assured her earnestly. "I expect by Christmas everyone should be well again."

"I can't possibly be away from here that long!" Mia exclaimed.

"But, your Highness ..."

"If the country is quarantined, how did you get here?" Mia frowned, her headache beginning to pound through her head. She really didn't need this hassle right now. She wasn't a nurse, and she CERTAINLY could not stand in for her grandmother as Queen of Genovia without Queen Clarisse by her side! She had had a number of princess lessons, yes, but no 'queen' lessons, yet. The two had tacitly agreed to leave that until Mia had moved to Genovia once she had graduated. After all, there was no rush. Mia didn't have to become queen until she was ready. Mia hoped her grandmother realized she wasn't going to be ready for quite a few years. She was still trying to assimilate the information that she was a princess!

Gérald looked blank, then uncomfortable before admitting, "I snuck across the border and pretended I had been there with my aunt for the last month ... so when I wanted to fly to America, they let me come."

Mia turned to Emily, a sick feeling washing over her. "Do I HAVE to go back, Emily?"

Emily, Mia's very efficient body guard who had been pulled from the Driving Division of the Genovian Attaché Corps, looked undecided. "It IS imperative that someone be on the throne ... preferably someone of the Renaldi blood. Baron von Troken is always too ready to jump in ..."

"Neither he nor the Baroness will be jumping far for quite a while yet," Gérald murmured. "Both ill."

Mia held her hands to her head. She couldn't BEAR the pain. "No! No, I can't come ... I ..."

To the horror of both Gérald and Emily, Mia went white, swayed ... and fell. Emily caught her, and her startled glance met Gérald's. It seemed that Mia, too, had contracted mono during her summer in Genovia.

O o O o O o

For almost a week after Dr. Howard had ordered her to bed, Clarisse drifted in and out of unconsciousness. Vague dreams swirled through her mind, and she found herself struggling to make sense of what was happening. Even ill, her mind was trying to sort through various dilemmas, and time after time she would be aware of crying out and then being soothed and comforted by someone murmuring endearments. She relived the Viscount's assault so often that she began to think it was only a nightmare which had never really happened. She held firmly to the delicious dream of Joseph's kiss, and realized that the male voice she heard was his. When she wasn't burning with fever, she was shivering, and she welcomed the comfort of his arms, even though every light touch on her sensitive skin hurt. Then came days when she was unaware of the delirious ranting of the man beside her.

At last Clarisse became aware of her surroundings again. She lay perfectly still for a while before opening her eyes, taking mental inventory of her body. She felt incredibly weak, but assumed it was from lack of exercise as much as the illness. At least the pain in her throat and under her arms was gone, although she still had a headache. A slight snore beside her had her eyes flying open and she turned her head quickly in that direction. The massive headache returned with a bang, and her eyes closed as she slid into unconsciousness once again ... but not without the startling impression of Joseph sleeping beside her.

O o O o O o

It was Clarisse's horrified whisper, "Why is he in MY bed?" that had Joseph dragging his eyes open to see Dr. Howard smiling down at the queen.

Although he tried to move, to get up abashedly and make his profound apologies to the woman he loved who just happened to be his sovereign, Joseph found it an impossible task due to the pain he was feeling. Every muscle ached, right down to his baby toe. He had never felt so weak and vulnerable in his entire life. He couldn't even SPEAK, as all that came out was a low groan when he attempted to make a sound.

"I had nothing to do with it!" Dr. Howard held up her hands in laughing surrender. Then she added gently, "You have BOTH been much too sick to move. Anyone wanting to make a scandal out of this would find it a waste of time, as neither one of you will have any energy to do anything but sleep for a few weeks yet! I'm hoping you are on the mend now, but you might as well get used to the lethargy. The pain will gradually fade, but not nearly as soon as either one of you would like, I'm certain. Now, much though I would like to stay and visit, your Majesty, I must go. I have responsibilities and people depend on me!"

"Wait ..." Clarisse moved incautiously and winced as the pain shot through her head again. "How ... how is Charlotte? And ... and Scott?"

"Recovering slowly, too ... and just as horrified to find themselves sharing a room as you two are. Charlotte has been up a couple of hours for the last few days, working with Sebastian Motaz who is also recovering. Those two have managed to keep important matters dealt with ... I believe by phoning and faxing your son, Prince Pierre, is it?" The doctor shook her head. "Obviously I wanted a nightmarish adventure in Europe when I volunteered to come here this past summer for a few months! I must be more incompetent than I thought! There are so few people still well here! And the ones who ARE are sneaking away daily ... like that young man ... what was his name? Gerard?"

"Gérald," Joseph muttered. "He's ... gone?"

"The day after you collapsed." Dr. Howard rolled her eyes. "Must be a half-empty kind of guy to be scared off thinking of all the work he'd have to do on his own. Still, it's a good thing everything is shut down in Genovia, or you'd never catch up on all your work, your Majesty! Well, I'm going. I'll check in on you tomorrow. Felix is still here, and will bring up some broth and your medication if you need it later on."

After the doctor had left, Clarisse slowly and carefully turned her head, and her eyes met Joseph's. For a long time, neither of them said anything. Then both smiled tentatively and, under cover of the blankets, their hands reached and clasped in secret before both relaxed again into sleep.

O o O o O o


	6. Chapter 6

The weeks he spent recuperating from Infectious Mononucleosis, a disease he had been infuriated to discover should have been confined to mostly adolescents and young adults, had Arthur Mabrey rethinking his strategy with regards to Queen Clarisse. His fury that day long ago followed by his severe illness had left him with much of the past shrouded in uncertainty. Had he REALLY kissed the queen or was that one of the strange dreams which had haunted his sickbed? He hoped the latter, but could not be sure. Suffice to say that he had finally decided to lay low for the next four years, so that when his nephew turned twenty-one and the time was right, he, Arthur Mabrey, would be in the enviable position of being able to influence Parliament, remove Queen Clarisse from the throne, and have Nicholas crowned King of Genovia before the American princess could be crowned Queen.

His restless sleep while in the grip of his illness had been disturbed with visions of the kiss he had forced upon the queen and her response both positive and negative. He had felt his longing for her growing again and had fought against it, realizing that the only way he would ever have her would be completely against her will and knowing that he really only wanted her for the power he would wield when he was married to her. He had dreamt of so much more: his nephew and the plans he had for the young man and his own part in that future, the murderous attack on the woman who had borne his only child whom he had vowed he would never acknowledge, the vague threats from the daughter who was the only living proof that he was helpless against his own body's desires, being bodily removed from a building where the doors had been barred against him, being threatened by the cold righteous anger of the very dangerous Head of Security, the entire Parliament voting in favour of something only HE knew was utterly preposterous, and not being able to do one thing about any of the horrible nightmares.

Gretchen had tended him as silently as ever, but he had paid her no mind beyond what she could do for him. His entire focus now while recovering from his illness was on how he could gloss over things with the queen and worm his way back into her good graces -- or at the very least, out of her BAD graces! After all, she was only a female, and therefore his superior mind could surely work things out to his advantage! Perhaps he could claim that many of the things he had said had been fabricated by Elsie Kentworthy? His lip curled at the thought of the red-haired woman, but he quickly acknowledged that in her position in the media industry, she could be invaluable to his future plans, so he knew he could not afford to alienate her. Reluctantly he thought of another woman he detested for her very efficiency, Charlotte Kutaway. By virtue of HER position in the palace, the queen's aide would know much and could possibly be persuaded, gently or otherwise, to reveal necessary information. Both females were the same age, both owed their present positions to anonymous aid, and strangely enough, both had been raised in the orphanage. But only one was his daughter, and he'd be damned before he ever admitted publically which one!

"GRETCHEN! MORE HOT WATER!" he howled, needing to wash the stench of years of bad memories off his skin.

O o O o O o

Although both Joseph and Clarisse were somewhat better, neither one was sleeping well. When Clarisse had first opened her eyes one night after the doctor's visit, it had been to find herself resting right beside Joseph, her head on the pillow near his, and her arm draped over him. His eyes had opened at the same time, and in the dim light they had blinked sleepily at one another. Without saying a word, Joseph had bent forward and kissed her softly on the lips. She had returned the kiss, and snuggled into his embrace again, her eyes closing drowsily.

The next time Clarisse awoke, still in his arms, she whispered, "Joseph? We shouldn't be here like this ..."

"Why not?" he returned in a whisper, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "It feels so right!"

"I know ... and I feel so guilty that I love sleeping here with you ... more than I ever did with ... Rupert."

"Oh, Clarisse ..." This time his kiss landed on her lips and lingered.

Passion, such as she hadn't even realized existed before Joseph, whipped through her body, heating her blood and her skin. Her heart was beating so fast she was sure Joseph could feel it in his own chest, since they were so close.

"I feel ... naughty ..." she murmured when his kiss ended.

"You feel wonderful ... and if this is you being naughty, I want you like this always," Joseph said huskily, running his hand down the curves of her back and pulling her even closer. "I love you, Clarisse. It's like a miracle to be able to tell you. I know I shouldn't love you, but ..."

"I shouldn't feel this wonderful ... we're over sixty, Joseph! We should know better ..." She took his hand and held it against her breast.

"Do you know that for a middle-aged, experienced, intelligent woman, you can be rather naive?" he asked dryly. "This is our second chance at love. REAL love!" His fingers stroked her lovingly, and the warmth of his love wrapped around her securely.

With a soft laugh, Clarisse cupped his cheek with her hand. "I love you, Joseph," she said and kissed him again, then sighed tiredly. As her eyes closed, she murmured, "We can't do this again until Mia is queen."

"Not unless we do it secretly," Joseph agreed. "We'll keep our relationship in the shadows ..." His voice grew weaker as he spoke.

"Friendship ..." her voice died away and she slept.

O o O o O o

When the doctor came the next morning, Clarisse was very properly on her own side of the bed and Joseph was on his, but their eyes met repeatedly, signalling to one another the message of their love.

"May I get up, Doctor?" Clarisse asked when they had both been examined.

"You can try, your Majesty. But don't stay up long," Dr. Howard warned her. Then she looked over at Joseph. "I suppose you want to get up, too ... and perhaps return to your own bed."

Joseph said _yes_, although his eyes told Clarisse he REALLY meant _no_. She smiled back at him, then said to Dr. Howard, "Tell me, what do YOU think about miracles and second chances?"

Dr. Howard spoke briskly, "I'm a woman of science. I only believe in what I see. Now then, Charlotte and Shades are both up for a short time this morning too, so you may get up, but I don't want to hear about ANY of you doing any actual work ... that means no walking even to the office, no reading letters, no meetings with anyone, no sitting at your desk and doing whatever it is queens do ... is that clear, your Majesty? Do you understand me?"

"Queens never misunderstand anything," Joseph muttered with a sly grin on his face.

Clarisse glared at him. His grin grew. Dr. Howard rolled her eyes and said, "Obviously you both are on the mend. Remember, you may stay up for a while, but if you start to feel the least bit tired, lie down again. You're going to be VERY weak for a long time, and if you overdo it right at the start, you will only prolong your agony."

"Yes, Doctor," they both said obediently.

O o O o O o

It was almost Christmas before life in the palace got back to normal. When Clarisse had finally been well enough to get back to work part-time, she had publicly acknowledged the invaluable work that Charlotte and Sebastian Motaz had done to keep Genovia on a fairly even keel while everyone was so sick. Gérald had returned from America and had confessed to Joseph that he had tried to bring Mia to rule, then had had to endure Joseph's ridicule that the young man had thought a sixteen-year-old could have possibly been able to take Queen Clarisse's place, even for a few days. After making the young man suffer for a short time, Joseph had clapped him on the back and praised him for his efforts, even though they had been fruitless. Then Gérald had returned to his studies.

Joseph and Clarisse had never mentioned their night together to anyone, and had never even discussed it between themselves. Although they had not been well enough to go further than a few kisses and some snuggling, it remained a memorable night for both. Since then they had grown even closer, if possible, and Clarisse was rarely seen without either Joseph or Charlotte in close attendance. Charlotte and Shades had apparently decided that sharing a bed was something they wanted to continue doing, so they got married in November ... and Clarisse had been delighted to be asked to be Charlotte's attendant while Joseph had agreed to stand up with Shades. It had pleased her even more when Charlotte and Shades had presented her with a tiny puppy, Maurice, as a thank you for all she had done with regard to their wedding.

It was to be another four and a half years before Joseph and Clarisse could publically disclose their own intimate relationship, and it was then that the Viscount's carefully-laid plans to secure the throne for himself through his nephew were revealed and upset. Following his arrest and incarceration the day Joseph and Clarisse were married, Arthur Mabrey was stripped of his title and lands and exiled from Genovia, with Queen Amelia's information that her grandmother had suggested he be hung by his toes in the courtyard for a week first, but the new queen didn't wish to sully the palace with his presence any more than had already been done. She also told him that his nephew, who was going to marry her the following year, had formally changed his name to his mother's maiden name, and that the name Mabrey would only be held in contempt from that moment on in Genovia.

Shortly after his exile, Arthur's daughter discovered, to her dismay, the name of the father who had repeatedly denied her. Using her investigative skills, the young woman also managed to solve a five year old murder mystery, and Arthur Mabrey was then charged with the murder of his former lover and mother of his daughter. Unfortunately for his daughter's strong sense of justice, before he could be extradited back to Genovia to stand trial for murder, he died in a fit of apoplexy. Elsie Kentworthy was so disgusted at the thought of being related in any way to Arthur Mabrey, not to mention finding out she had played into his hands by spreading the 'scandal' about Lord Nicholas and Princess Mia, that she quit her job with the television station in Pyrus and joined the Genovian Attaché Corps in order to help the monarchy instead of hinder it in the years to come.

Charlotte never DID find out who her birth parents were, but Joseph finally admitted that, when he had first come to Genovia, he had started donating anonymously to the orphanage and, after receiving reports on the children there, had decided on his own behest to contribute to Charlotte's education the way Elsie Kentworthy's 'mysterious benefactor' had contributed to hers. It had been Joseph who had arranged for Charlotte to become Clarisse's aide, knowing Clarisse's nature and having a strong suspicion that she and Charlotte would be ideal for each other. Clarisse admitted that she had always felt Charlotte was the daughter she had never had, and Joseph agreed that he loved Charlotte just as Clarisse did. Those two became honorary grandparents to the three children Charlotte and Shades adopted, as well as the many foster children who passed through their home.

Despite the ten days when Genovia was incommunicado because of the quarantine and the weeks afterwards running with partial staff, and subsequent murmurings that such a thing would never have happened had the von Trokens been ruling, the country continued to be a small but prosperous nation. The Renaldi family remained on the throne for many years after King Rupert's reign, first with Queen Clarisse's rule and then Queen Amelia with her eldest son, Prince Joseph, as a guiding light for the future. But for many years afterwards, it was said that Genovia would never again see a queen and her consort so happy and so in love as the beloved Queen Clarisse and her knight!

The End!


End file.
